


Distraction

by 8bite_me3



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Russian 21st c.
Genre: Love Triangle, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Oral, Politics, RPF, RPS - Freeform, Russia, Teasing, dam, gps, purkov, putvedev, vvp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 08:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8bite_me3/pseuds/8bite_me3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does Vladimir Putin have feelings for Dmitry Medvedev? He maybe feels something but what? slight Purkov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

He sits by his desk it the Kremlin trying to concentrate, to work, to forget about life, problems and him. 

Him 

Him

Him

It’s been a month since he last saw Dima, and he hates to admit that he misses him. His smile, the scent of his hair, the touch of his naked skin on his… He stops before he loses his head entirely, before the twinge of arousal becomes hardened desire. 

A world where personal needs come first doesn’t exist for people like Vladimir Putin. He learned that long time ago and learned it the hard way. Love, loyalty, and trust never come for free. Love? What love? He’s not in love with Dima. No. Definitely not. He’s just a toy, a puppet, that can easily be replaced.

“You’re not working? Has the Earth had stopped moving or did I missed something?”

“A knock” he said to the silhouette of Surkov that he leaning against the doorframe out of the corner of his eye. “Did not your father not teach you it’s rude to spring upon someone like this? Oh, wait…” He takes some satisfaction from the unpleasant grimace that spreads across Surkov’s lips and begins to thumb through the pages of a document, ignoring his intruder completely. He knows that will make him feel miserable and he wants to make Slava feel as miserable as he feels without Dima. 

After a minute he decides to break the mounting tense silence, “Are you here because you felt like it’s a good idea to creep upon your President or you have any other and more important reasons?”

“Touchy, touchy. I see you’re in one of your moods. I’ll just come back later…” Surkov turned around and headed towards the door. 

“No, come here and tell me what you want” he commands in a voice no man had ever dared to disobey. He knows Slava likes it when he plays boss. Let him have some fun. 

Surkov turned around, a sly grin on his face, and approached the desk. “Closer, are you afraid of me or what?” he challenges.

“I am not.” Surkov circles around the desk and stood directly next to him, his thigh brushing up against the arm of the chair.

“You better be” he says in almost a whisper as he takes the younger man’s arm and roughly pulls him into his lap. Hazel eyes meet cold icy blue ones. No, that’s not right. They’re not blue. “Close your eyes.”

Slava obeys him, as always, and leans towards him eagerly. Vladimir runs his hands over his body eliciting deep moans from the younger man. No, not the right voice, not the right man…

He pulls away “You can go now.” 

The look on Slava’s face is priceless. 

“I. Said. You. Can. Go. Now.”

Vladislav opens his mouth to protest but shuts it, quickly changing his mind. He leaves just as quietly as he came, but Vladimir can swear he hears him mutter Dima’s name under his breath. He decides he will punish him again for it later. Not now. Work and Slava can wait, Dima can’t.

~~~

It’s 7 o’clock. Everyone’s left for the day, but he knows that Dmitry is still in his office. He knows he’s waiting for him, like always. But he doesn’t have to wait any longer. 

Vladimir quietly creeps into the office. He told the secretary that informing Mr. Medvedev was unnecessary. Hopefully she had the brains to keep her mouth shut. Upon successfully entering the office unnoticed he spies Dima sitting at his desk, a faint blue glow lighting up his face. Dima’s staring at his iPad like it’s holding all the secrets in the world.

He quietly steps over to the desk and sneaks up behind Dima, who is still completely oblivious. Good. Vladimir leans over and places a soft kiss on Dima’s neck.   
He nearly jumps out of his seat at the touch, but immediately relaxes upon recognizing Vladimir’s scent and the feel of familiar lips moving across his jaw. “Volodya, I…”

“Shh, stop talking” he brushes his lips against Dima’s ear. “There are many more enjoyable things you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.” 

But Dmitry does not shut up. Even with Putin’s tongue in his ear he continued blabbering on, “Oh, Volodya I’ve missed you so much! I’m so glad you’re here. I wanted to stop by your office earlier but you said I’m not to go to you…”

“That’s right. And it was so good of you to not. I just can’t let good behavior go unnoticed. Undress.”

“Right here? In my office?”

“Never been a problem before.” 

Vladimir always gets caught in this feeling when he’s with Dima; like some strange power was pulling him towards him. He felt it deep in his being. And it went beyond the boundaries of want and desire. It was indescribable. Perhaps akin to love…Love? This is just sex, not love. Then why wasn’t Slava enough for him, enough to satisfy his needs? 

He was angry now. These thoughts made him confused. He didn’t like not knowing. 

He roughly pulls a very startled Dima, who was in the process of removing his tie, up out of his chair. He grips at his shirt and rips it open causing buttons to fly everywhere. 

“I’m glad you are so eager, Volodya, but can’t we…”

Vladimir’s lips are capturing Dima’s before he can finish his sentence. He sucks on his bottom lip begging for entrance. Warm, wet tongues meet and entangle. He slides his hands down his back as Dima wraps his arms around his neck. Upon reaching his butt he gives it a slight squeeze before he grinds their hips together. Dima moans into his mouth at this intimate contact. If he can feel his arousal pressing against his thigh he was sure Dima can feel his own. 

He feels Dima’s hands slide the down his chest. Every inch of skin that he touches feels like it’s on fire. Nimble fingers quickly unbuttons his suit coat and then his shirt. He assists by shrugging off the irritating garments and tosses them to the floor. He feels Dima’s fingers skim the edge of his pants before tracing his belt buckle. He grinds into Dima’s hands to encourage him. 

That is all Dima needs. Vladimir watches as Dima drops to knees in front of him. He feels Dima rubs his check against the tight bulge in his pants and he can’t help but moan. The friction feels so good. Dima easily unbuckles the belt and unzips his pants. 

Dima’s familiar lips are so warm and wet on him, and he silently curses denying himself this pleasure. He should’ve came to Dima’s office sooner. He slides his fingers through Dima’s coarse hair, encouraging his dutiful lover. 

And Dima, oh Dima and his skillful, so skilful lips and tongue. He grips Dima’s hair in warning but he does not heed it. He only continues his ministrations. Up and down his head continues to bob. Kissing, sucking, worshiping. 

He’s right on the edge and he just can’t… He hadn’t been with him in so long… The way his tongue circles the tip before sliding across the slit… And then his tongue rubs against that spot…

A shallow thrust and he empties himself into his mouth with a feral growl.

“That was… lovely” says Dima as he swallows the fruits of his labor. 

Lovely, surely Dmitry is the only one in the world who says this after giving head. Lovely. He can’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written by meanboysfromkremlin, http://meanboysfromkremlin.tumblr.com/. I helped her out with the putvedev bits.


End file.
